I know it's been almost a year since my last post. Life suddenly got in the way. My husband was diagnosed with oesophageal cancer in early June and died in October. Since then I've been trying to get a grip and look after the dogs.
Both of them miss him so much, and on top of that, Murphy has been steadily deteriorating. He had the vestibular disease last March and we thought we would lose him, but he struggled back and apart from a tilt to the head when he was tired and a wee bit worse off in the balance stakes, was none the worse.
At the beginning of October we noticed an egg-sized lump on his back leg which when tested proved to be full of synovial (join) fluid. Nothing they could do as he's too old to operate, he wouldn't survive the anaesthetic. So I've had to watch it grow, and grow, and grow.
Meanwhile he has slowed down, is almost totally deaf, falls over a lot, doesn't really know when he is poo-ing anymore (no problems with his waterworks, thank god) and has increasing doggy dementia. He hates to let me out his sight and follows me everywhere if possible.
Finally last week he noticed the lump and (I've been keeping it dressed since it started bleeding Saturday before Christmas) licked it to such good effect he took the top off. Since when we've been living on borrowed time. The lump is now full of necrotic tissue and is getting bigger and worse. It hurts him I think, he is starting to flinch when I clean and dress it twice a day. His brother Rufus (owned by my son in law's family) died on 3rd January in his sleep. and since then I knew it wouldn't be long, they've always been quite similar in their progress.
So we come to it - the hardest thing a pet owner has to do. Make the Decision. We've had a family weekend so the kids and families have been able to say goodbye. I've had a lot of lovely messages on social media, some of them insightful and helpful as well as supportive.
- "letting him go is part of loving him" (Anne Rae)
- "he knows he is loved" (Anne White)
- "he knows he is loved and he will love you back forever" (Rick White)
- "he's had the best fur mummy" (Jen Birtles Kelman)
- "the kindest and hardest thing a pet owner has to do" (Fiona Taylor)
- "a much-loved Murphy" (Linda Leslie)
- "he's had such a wonderful life, no dog could be loved more" (Angela Slater)
- "we all loved Murphy very very much" (Anne Clydesdale)
- "cherish every moment and know he will always be in your heart" (Claire Lisa Shaw)
- "..you know it's the best for Murphy" (Tina Roberts)
- "I still laugh at Murphy trying to take off the bandana you had bought for Archie" (Lynn Duguid)
- "So many happy times - the girls still remember Murphy getting into Drum garden centre. You were so calm - at least on the outside!" (Veronica Strachan)
So here I am, trying to keep it a normal day for me, Murphy and Maddie, and trying not to watch the clock. I am ABSOLUTELY NOT thinking about it.
But I can now see that it is indeed time. He never wags his tail anymore, I never see him grinning like he used to. He can't run at all anymore, his back legs drag. he is lost in confusion a lot of the time and each day is not lived but survived. What kind of life is that for a dog? I hadn't really seen it because I live with him but I can see it through other people's eyes now I'm looking.
So I am taking a huge, deep breath, and waiting to say goodbye. Emily's going to come round and I've organised to help with the Brownies and then go see Nana in hospital tonight to keep me distracted. But I am so MAD at Richard for leaving me to do this on my own. Or I suppose really I am mad at life and the universe for taking Richard away against his will and leaving me alone with this.
My poor darling Murphy. Apart from an indiscretion with a deer which wasn't entirely his fault, he has been the best dog ever. Friendly, kind, sociable, great with kids, patient, loyal, fun. I owe it to him to let him go and I will not fail him. I love you Murphy. Life will NEVER be the same and I wouldn't want it to be.
